


He'll be holding onto Him

by what_am_i_doing_with_my_life



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: M/M, No Smut, Poor Josh, Sickfic, im sorry, josh goes to hospital, josh is really sick, josh is scared, joshler - Freeform, mentions of vomit but nothing descriptive or anything, sick josh, tyler is trying to take care of him, worried tyler
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-07 22:35:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5473049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/what_am_i_doing_with_my_life/pseuds/what_am_i_doing_with_my_life
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Josh is really sick and Tyler is very worried and trying to take care of him</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what im doing  
> or why im doing it  
> but to be honest im having a great fucking time
> 
> A review might be nice also  
> if you actually make it to the bottom of this shit  
> Anyway thank you for trying even if you dont
> 
> will added another chapter or so later on :)

“Ty…” Josh whispered from behind me, causing me to jump; I hadn't heard him come in.  
“Yeah?” I was only half listening, assuming he just wanted to mess around a bit before the concert. That was the only reason we were ever in each other’s dressing rooms after all. “I really don’t have time right now, Josh. Neither do you; we’ve got so much to do before we have to go on-”  
“…Tyler…” he repeated, even more softly than last time.  
“What?” I sighed; I wasn't getting out of this one. As much as I loved him, we really needed to get everything finished.  
“…I-I cant…”  
“Cant what?”  
“…P-play…t-tonight…” The last word came out as a quiet sob.  
“What? Josh-” I cut myself off as I spun around to face him.  
Pink hair was plastered to his forehead and his face was screwed up in pain, his arms wrapped around his stomach. “…I-I'm s-sorry…” he whimpered, on the brink of tears.  
“Shh, no, Joshie, it’s okay. Are you alright?” I stepped closer, pulling him into a hug and frowning at how warm he was. “You’re sick?”  
He nodded against me, relaxing slightly as I touched him. “…Dizzy, Ty…n-need to…” he trailed off.  
Realising what he wanted, I tried to pull him toward a chair, only to have his legs collapse under him.  
I only just managed to catch him, supporting his neck as he lay on the ground. Lifting his head onto my lap, I ran my fingers through his hair, trying to get it off his face.  
“…Tyler…” he mumbled again.  
“I'm here, Josh, it’s okay.” I leant down to kiss his forehead. “Mark,” I called out, wincing when Josh cringed at the volume of my voice. “Come here!”  
He appeared a minute later, freezing when he saw Josh. “What..?”  
“We have to cancel. He’s sick.”  
Mark didn't argue with me; apparently my boyfriend’s condition didn't leave much room for disagreement.  
“Let’s get you back on the bus, alright?” I asked him, reaching for his hands.  
He squirmed. “…C-cant walk, Ty…”  
“Of course not, silly! I don’t expect you to!” Getting to my feet, I carefully scooped him up, carrying him bridal style. A soft whimper escaped him as he leant his head against my chest, his fingers toying with the collar of my shirt. “You’ll be okay, Jishwa, I’ve got you, baby.” I kissed the top of his head.

“It h-hurts, Tyler!” He cried, tears streaming down his cheeks. It was one AM now and Josh was clinging to me as I leant over him, trying to calm him as violent sobs wracked his body.  
“I know, baby, I'm sorry…” I kissed the backs of his fingers, rubbing slow circles into his stomach to try and sooth what I assumed to be cramps.  
“I-it’s hurting so much…” His face was flushed; his cheeks bright red with fever while the rest of his skin was scarily pale.  
“Shh, I know. I know it’s hard but try and relax, okay? You’re all curled up.” I tried – and failed – to pull his knees away from his chest.  
The rest of the crew watched from various places in the bus, no one able to sleep through my boyfriend’s desperate screams as he begged for help. It frightened me; my Joshie was never one to complain but not he was unable to stay quiet.  
He pushed my hand away, arching his back off the bed as another wave of pain hit, his cries almost breaking my heart. “M-make it stop!”  
“I'm sorry, baby, I don’t know how.” I bit back tears, hating every second I had to watch him like this without being able to help.  
“Tyler-” He couldn't finish the sentence, cutting himself and sinking his teeth into his lip and whining quietly.  
“Joshie, do you want to go to the hospital?” I lay beside him, hugging him the best I could without touching his stomach.  
“D-don’t cry, Tyler,” he pleaded, attempting to wipe my face dry with his sleeve.  
“I'm sorry, baby. I just hate seeing you like this…Hospital?”  
He hesitated before nodding desperately, unable to stop another yelp as the bus jerked suddenly. “…Feel sick…”  
I pulled the bucket closer just in case, holding my boyfriend tighter.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joshie and Ty at the hospital...Josh is stoned (legally of course ;) )

The ambulance ride had been hell for my Joshie; every single little bump causing a new ripple of pain. It seemed to take far too long to reach the hospital and by the time we got there my fingers were numb from how hard he was squeezing my hand. I wasn’t even sure if he was aware of the paramedics putting the lure into his arm and was barely able to give consent to them giving him morphine. The drug seemed to help though, and he started to relax a little as we pulled into the ambulance bay. 

“Feeling a bit better, baby?” I asked, running my fingers through his hair and leaning forward to kiss his forehead. 

“Yeah…doesn’t hurt as much…love you, Ty…” he mumbled, managing to smile a little as I touched him. 

“I love you too, Joshie. Try and get some sleep, okay?” 

He just nodded tiredly, curling into himself again except this time it wasn't out of pain. 

 

His period of respite didn't last long. Within half an hour he yelped my name, struggling to sit up.

“Calm down! You’re going to hurt yourself!” I tried to guide him back down again but his body convulsed and he threw up, both of us  
covered in the mess. 

Josh burst into tears immediately. “I'm sorry! I'm s-so sorry, Tyler!” He tried to turn away from me, pressing both of his hands over his mouth.

I quickly grabbed a container, holding it in front of him as his muscles contracted again. “It’s okay, Joshie. It’s alright. I’ll get us cleaned up, baby, don’t worry,” I murmured, stroking his hair off his face. 

A nurse appeared from nowhere, pushing me out of the way and sighing heavily as she ripped the blankets off my boyfriend, grumbling to herself as she realised his jeans were wrecked as well. 

“What’s wrong with him?” I squeaked, standing on my toes to try and see over her shoulder. She was too rough with him as she attempted – badly attempted – to wipe his face and hands clean, completely ignoring that he was sobbing quietly and was as white as a sheet. 

“Morphine can make you puke,” she told me curtly, dragging the curtain closed. “Get up. You have to get changed.” 

A look of absolute panic flashed across Josh’s face and he blushed scarlet, heat rushing to his cheeks. “N-no…I-I don’t…” 

“It’s okay, baby, I’ll help you clean up.” I stepped forward again, hugging him as much as I was able. He clung to me, hiding his face in my shirt to try and smother his embarrassment; absolutely mortified at the prospect of her having to help him dress. “I’ve got you now.” 

After the nurse had brought in a change of clothes and left us in peace, I set about trying to make him comfortable again. He sunk his teeth into his lip as I pulled him upright. “I'm sorry, you can lie down again really soon,” I promised, kissing his over-heated cheek. I helped him out of his shirt before sliding the hospital gown over his head and helping him lie down again. Josh immediately hugged himself again, whining softly at the movement. Getting his jeans down was less-painful; he didn't have to move much, just lifting himself off the mattress slightly while I tugged them down. 

“Ty…” 

“It’s okay, baby,” I assured him again, taking my jacket off so that I was clean as well. 

“I-I'm so sorry…” he sniffed, wiping his face dry. “I'm sorry…” 

“Josh, it isn’t your fault.” I knotted my fingers through his, pressing my lips against the back of his hand.

“Y-you cant go…Y-you don’t have to stay with me…” His voice became thick and his eyes welled with tears, threatening to overflow. 

“Of course I have to stay! I'm your boyfriend, and I love you, Joshie.” 

“I-I don’t w-want you to go…” he admitted, choking on a small sob.

“Then I’ll stay with you until they kick me out, okay? I’ll stay with you?” I kissed his forehead, chuckling when he tried to mimic my smile.

“Y-you’re really pretty…” 

“You’re really pretty too, baby, don’t worry.” I bit my lip to keep from laughing.

“W-why is your hair always so like…soft…like a duckling or something…You’re pretty, smol bean,” he mumbled, starting to fall asleep now, finally a little more comfortable. 

I couldn't help it and started giggling hysterically. “You’re the only smol bean in here, Joshua Dun. And the only drugged on too.” 

“Hmm…you’re smol beanier…” 

“And you’re really hot in an oversized dress,” I teased, but he was too far gone to care. “Go to sleep, Joshie, I’ll see you in the morning, you dork.” I squeezed his hand, settling on the bed next to him. 

“Please stay, Ty…” 

“Of course, baby.”

**Author's Note:**

> I see you made it out alive  
> But will Josh?  
> I kid I love him too much to kill him  
> Thanks guys
> 
> Also are the nicknames annoying? They're not particularly original ( ha ha fuck me I've got the brain of a goldfish ;) original indeed)  
> Do I over use them?  
> You better fucking complain if I do so I can fix this shit


End file.
